Chances
by ohnoitstori
Summary: Hanna doesn't even know the statistics of this even being possible, because it's so improbable, completely and totally insane, that she doesn't want to know. Oneshot. ;Sophie/Hanna;


|Hanna|

Hanna's hand brushes across the bracelet wrapped around her hand. She thinks it's quite pretty. It's really the only gift she's ever been given. Sure, she's had birthdays, but this doesn't count, right? This was for no special event, so surely this mustn't count.

She looks to her left. She'd found some change on the streets and managed to buy herself another bus token. A sign out her window says 'Now Entering Morocco'. Her eyes flutter closed as she thinks of all the places that Sophie might be. Her family travels the countryside, and she knows that there isn't a very good chance that Sophie's family would appreciate her coming back but, really, she has no where else to go.

Her hand grasps the fabric of the grey jacket that Sophie lent her just where her heart is, and she wonders if anything special was done to it, too.

Freak.

Hanna jerks her head to her left and she sees two girls to her left, giggling, and she knows she shouldn't be so paranoid when no one is even talking to her but she doesn't care much for that word anymore. She doesn't realize she's staring until one of the girls shifts and whispers something to the other while looking back at her. She turns back forward and remembers to tell herself that they're not the enemies, she doesn't have any anymore.

She tries to close her eyes but only images of Sophie and her father appear beneath her eyelids and she doesn't want to think of her father anymore, he isn't really hers to claim.

So instead, she focuses on Sophie. She remembers the way her lips felt when she kissed her that night under her covers, and she remembers how much Sophie cared for her when she had no where to go, and how she followed her despite telling her not to. She remembers Sophie's brown hair and how it reminded her of her father's brown hair, and how gorgeous it looked on her. She thought about her tan skin compared to hers that was as pale as snow.

She also remembers how it felt to see the hurt in her eyes when Sophie watched her kill someone, and then vowing that after Marissa, she wouldn't hurt anyone else because Hanna doesn't have anyone else and she needs someone to hold onto.

Realization hits like an anchor to her chest and she tries to absorb the fact that Marissa may have killed her - she knows that Marissa must have tried to get information out of her. And if she knows Sophie, she knows that she wouldn't have said anything. But she doesn't want to believe that so she tries to get back to looking out her window, concentrating on the smallest things she sees, like the dark of the moon - and how it looked so much different in Finland.

"You getting off here?" The bus driver twists in his seat to look back at her.

"Where are we?" She asks him, looking out the window for signs that may tell her where she is. She's been on this onebus for a while now, but she's still not sure if she's where she wants to be. She has had to switch buses a few times. She looks back and she sees nothing but empty seats and wonders when the two girls left.

"A little out of Morocco. Can't take you much further, young lady. Out of my bus district." Hanna briefly wonders why he can't seem to speak in full sentences, but decides to let it go, she has no more enemies. They were not raised under the same circumstances. Perhaps he did not have proper teachers.

"Is it alright if I stay on for a little longer?" He nods in response and turns back around, pulling out onto the street once more.

/

Hanna thinks she must have fallen asleep because when she opens her eyes again she is being shaken by the bus driver and she has a tight hold on his hand, but he only seems slightly alarmed.

"Time to get off, sweetie." As much as she hates that word, she stands up and as she gets to the last step of the bus, she turns around.

"I am sorry for grasping your hand. Thank you for taking me this far." She steps out of the bus and makes her way down the side of the street. She never thought that buses took you on main highways but she supposes that the bus driver must have taken her this far.

She notices that she's nearing the end of the highway about after thirty minutes or so of transitioning between running and walking, trying to remember that she doesn't have to run anymore.

The road turns to gravel and only a two-way street is there now. She pulls her I.D. out of her jacket pocket and wonders why she still has it, the reserved space for a picture empty. She slides it back in and decides to bother with it later.

She comes to trailer park after trailer park, but none of them hold the face that she really wants to see.

/

By morning, she has looked through more than eight different trailer parks in various cities, but she can't find Sophie or her family anywhere. She begins to assume after the 6th park that they were all killed, but the promise of a new clearing keeps her looking.

She's far out of Morocco, she knows. She finds herself in a smaller town, with a more countryside feel. These people speak Arabic as well. This isn't a trailer park, but a motel buisness, but an RV parked in the grass makes Hanna glance twice before sprinting into the area.

What are the chances?

Hanna doesn't even know the statistics of this even being possible, because it's so improbable, completely and totally insane, that she doesn't want to know. Short locks of brown hair catch her attention as they're loading into a vehicle.

Hanna runs as fast as she can, she runs until she can feel her pulse beat in her legs, but she doesn't even make it to them before they pull out of the inn. She runs behind the vehicle, still as they pull onto the highway, and even with her inhuman strength she struggles to keep up. Horns blare behind her but she's not paying attention, all she cares about is finding Sophie and listening to her ramble obnoxiously but Hanna always thought that that was one of her best qualities, and she'd be better off dead if this was taken from her, too.

Hanna reaches the side of the vehicle, and she swears her heart stopped when she saw her. She looked the same as she always did, but it was her. It was her. It was Sophie.

She screams to the top of her lungs, and she knows that Sophie does the same when she catches a glance at her, running to the front of the vehicle and Hanna's sure telling her mother to pull over.

When she does - pull over, that is - Hanna has to move out of the way at how abrubtly the huge van hauls to the side.

"Sophie, what are you-" Hanna hears Rachel's voice trying to call out to Sophie, but she's already throwing the door open.

Sophie stops a few feet in front of her and neither girls say anything for what seems like hours.

"Hanna?" Sophie breathes.

Hanna nods and doesn't understand when she sees Sophie release a few tears, but when she throws her arms around her she doesn't try to.

"I knew you'd come back." Sophie whispers in her ear, holding on to her as tight as she can as if she fears that she might go away again. But Hanna knows what it's like to be without her and she knows that if she has no place in this world, even if she's a freak, then she might at least have this.


End file.
